


Pearls

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Karen Finlay contemplates motherhood.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Pearls

1968 

Patrick can hear the cries of his eight month old daughter Julie immediately when he walks through the side door. She’s howling like the world is ending, making sure everyone knows she is upset. He deposits his briefcase and medical supply bag on the side table in the hallway before making his way upstairs to the baby’s room. There he finds Karen with Julie in her arms, moving around the room, swaying, bouncing, cradling, doing whatever she can to soothe the child. 

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asks Karen over Julie's wails.

Karen jumps, startled by his arrival, not hearing him come home due to Julie crying so loud. 

“I don’t know,” Karen sobs right back “she ate, she’s not sick or running a temperature, she had a bath and new diaper, I just can’t get her to settle.” 

“Here,” Patrick says, lifting Julie into his arms and away from Karen to relieve her of some agony from the child’s cries. He pats her back gently as Karen sinks into the chair beside the crib and puts her head in her hands, seemingly defeated. 

Patrick rocks Julie while studying Karen who looks tired, worn, disheveled. 

“She knows,” Karen murmurs bluntly. 

“She knows what?” Patrick asked, swaying with Julie still. 

“She knows we’re not, I’m not, her real mother,” Karen sobs “that’s why she won’t stop crying, babies know that stuff.” 

“Oh come on,” Patrick tries to soothe her “she’s just cranky that’s all.” 

Karen shakes her head, unconvinced. Why else would the child not settle in her arms? Why would she stare at her from her high chair while she moved around the kitchen, cooking and cleaning? Why would she fuss for hours no matter how well she was fed, or rocked or read or sang to? She was restless, like she carried their secret too. 

“She grabs at my necklace,” Karen recalls, clutching the pearls around her neck that Patrick gifted her for a birthday “she wants the rosary, like the nuns wear, she knows Patrick.” 

He is at a loss at what to say or do to comfort both distraught Karen and wailing Julie. 

“Honey she grabs it because she likes it,” he explains “it’s shiny and new, she goes for the car keys too.”

He pauses, rocking Julie who seems to have lessened her sobbing. 

“Maybe,” Patrick continues in a gentle tone “maybe this is just what new moms go through, you know, the blues.”

Karen stares at him, knowing of the taboo topic but refusing to believe it. She didn’t give birth to Julie, how could she feel that agony? All she’s known for weeks is an aching desire to love and protect this child, to raise her, to save her from harm and heartache. Now that all seems to be backfiring in Julie's apparent rejection of her. 

“So what do we do?” Karen asks, eyes shining with tears, gaze filled with exhaustion and heaviness. 

“We just take it one day at a time,” Patrick summarizes, bouncing Julie now, adjusting the blanket around his shoulder, making funny faces at her. 

The way he soothes her makes Karen feel even more inadequate. She clutches the pearls around her neck, fingers rubbing the jewel like a comfort mechanism. After watching Patrick move around the room with Julie beginning to quiet down at last, Karen stands up and goes back to him. She holds her arms out silently for Julie. Patrick hands Julie back to her, handing her the blanket to drape over her shoulder. Karen takes Julie back to the cushioned rocking chair and settles back into it. She hums softly as Julie nestled her head on Karen’s shoulder, small hand outstretched towards the pearl necklace, grasping onto one gem with her tiny fingers. Karen lets her fingers play with the tiny wisps of blonde curls that adorn the child’s head, sweeping them back and forth against her soft head, peace settling over them at last. 

1973 

Karen lays out a floral print cloth blanket, one that has been tucked away in the closet and used for such occasions like today when her five year old daughter asks for a picnic outside in the backyard. It’s a mild spring day and the sun is out so Karen cannot say no to Julie when she asks to spend the afternoon outside. Karen makes a picnic lunch, peanut butter and jelly with the crusts cut off and the sandwich cut into little square pieces. She cuts fruit and veggies into a  
little plastic tupperware container and puts lemonade into plastic drinking cups with a lid for Julie and a straw for her own. Julie hovers near the kitchen counter with her small hands gripping the formica, peering over the edge to watch her mother work on the picnic lunch. Karen watches Julie's eyes peer over the countertop, observing her with curiosity and excitement as she makes lunch.

Together, they carry the containers of food and lemonade out to the backyard and set them up carefully on the quilted blanket. Karen kneels on the fabric, tucking the hem of her dress around her legs delicately. Julie follows suit and kneels, tucking the hem of her yellow and beige floral dress around her, trying to mimic Karen and be prim and proper. They serve lunch on white plates with pink and purple flowers painted around the edges. Julie watches Karen, tilting her head as she eats her sandwich, picking up pieces of fruit and vegetables one piece at a time, just like her mother. Karen realizes Julie is mimicking her and she allows this to continue, knowing soon enough the child will be back to jumping in mud puddles with her converse shoes and jean overalls. It won’t be long before Julie is tucked away in her room, reading her father's medical books by flashlight. The child is the best of both of them. 

Julie hums a little tune while she eats, pausing in between bites to say “Mama, after lunch can we watch the clouds and find shapes in them?” 

“Sure,” Karen agrees and Julie squirms, excited. 

They finish their meal and clear away the plastic containers, setting them on the metal patio table away from bugs and from being knocked over. Julie is already laying down on the blanket, staring up at the sky, her face forming a look of concentration, the gaps in her teeth where new ones are coming in behind old ones create a crooked little smile that is unique to her at this moment. Karen follows, laying down beside Julie as she points to the sky where many white fluffy clouds are floating across the blue landscape. 

“Look! That one looks like a fish!” Julie declares her first discovery. 

“You’re right.” Karen praises her “and that one over there looks like a monkey.”

“I see a boat, over there!” Julie gushes pointing again. 

“I see a dragon on that side,” Karen notices. 

On and on they go, naming shapes and animals and random objects they see in the sky. Julie tilts her head, concentrating again as she focuses on the clouds, the way birds fly high above her head and yet they don’t hit the clouds. She spots a lone airplane jetting across the sky and it manages to disappear behind the clouds. She wonders where it’s going and who is up there. 

“I want to swing now,” Julie declares, pushing herself up and racing over to the swing set Patrick bought and put together for her when she first started kindergarten last year. 

Karen sits up, feeling her head spin just a little from laying down. She watches Julie run to the swing set, settling herself onto the swing with ease, using her feet to make it start moving, slow at first, then gaining speed. Impatient, Julie calls for Karen. 

“Push me!” she yells to her. 

Karen walks around to the other side of the swing and holds onto the chains, slowly moving it forward then backward to get it more momentum. 

“Faster,” Julie demands. 

“Ask nicely,” Karen corrects her, stopping the chains from moving further. 

“Please and thank you,” Julie adds hastily to her request and Karen resumes pushing the swing. Soon she’s got her momentum and is swinging higher and higher. 

“I want to touch the clouds,” Julie demands now. 

“Honey no one can swing that high,” Karen confesses to her. 

“Daddy said I can,” Julie adds insult to injury, “he says, reach for the sky.” 

“Baby that’s an expression,” Karen tries to explain “it means, always do your best and always try and go for what’s going to make you happy.”

“Oh,” Julie says with defeat in her voice. 

Julie stays quiet for the rest of the time on the swing, using her legs to pump the air to swing higher long after Karen has stopped pushing her. Julie slows down just a little before leaping off and landing on the ground from a great distance. 

“Julie Elisabeth, I told you, no jumping off the swing from that high!” Karen scolds her.

“Fine,” Julie sighs, rolling her eyes, full of so much sarcasm and attitude yet so young and small. 

Karen cannot help but see a flicker of Constance in the eye roll as Julie runs back to the blanket to lay on it again. 

The afternoon wastes away before them. Julie searches for bugs in the grass while Karen shows her how to plant and start their garden. For dessert, Karen lets Julie have chocolate chip cookies as a treat before dinner and before Patrick comes home from work. The sugar high will come back to haunt her when she needs the little girl to settle for bedtime but for now, spoiling her every once in a while is acceptable. 

Julie starts to yawn as she settles back on the blanket to watch the clouds again. 

“What do you see now?” Karen asks, wanting to hear more of her wild imagination. 

“A lobster butt,” Julie declares, giggling. 

“A lobster butt,” Karen repeats and Julie dissolves into more giggles at how her mother says it “well that is certainly something.”

Julie turns over to lay on her side and snuggles right up to Karen who was not expecting the affection but pulls her in closer. In the midst of watching more clouds, Julie reaches her hand up and touches the pearl necklace perched delicately on Karen’s neck. Her fingers grasp the pearls and she rolls the jewels around between her fingers. Karen cannot help but smile as Julie starts to fall asleep, head on her shoulder, her wild blonde curls falling around her, fingers still clasped around the pearls. 

1976

When the weather report on the news predicted thunderstorms, Karen didn’t think much of it as she put Julie to bed for the night. But when thunder exploded over the house, rattling the walls and waking her from a dead sleep, she sat up in bed, heart pounding. It beat faster and nearly burst out of her chest when she heard Julie cry out from her across the hallway. Karen flung back the covers and hurried across the hall to Julie’s room, finding the child hiding under her covers. 

“Come on sweet pea,” Karen coaxed Julie out from her hiding place “come and sleep with me tonight.”

Julie reached out for Karen who scooped her up. At eight years old, she was getting harder to carry but she would fight her own pain to carry her to safety in any instance. Clutched in her arms were three stuffed animals she could not dare leave behind while the rest of her collection was covered under a blanket so they wouldn’t see the lightning or be scared. Karen admired her fierce desire to protect her toys and her loving and nurturing spirit right now. 

Back in the master bedroom, Karen settled Julie in the empty space beside her. Patrick was out of town for a few days for a medical convention, making this storm even more terrifying. Not that Karen wasn’t tough enough to handle things, she just felt more comfortable with another adult in the house. Julie immediately hid under the blankets, tucking in her three stuffed animals beside her, nice and safe. 

“Mama why is the storm so bad?” Julie asks with wide terrified eyes.

“Well baby it’s the summertime,” Karen explains “summer makes everything very hot and very muggy which makes extra bad thunderstorms.” 

She knew Julie was intelligent and able to handle a better scientific explanation but for now, at midnight, this would have to do. Julie cannot help but stare at the window, playing with the hem of the blanket as her mother settles in bed beside her. A vivid flash of lightning shoots across the window and Julie squeezes her eyes shut in fear. 

“Don’t look at it,” Karen soothes Julie, smoothing her hair comfortingly. 

“But it’s scary,” Julie says clutching the stuffed animals to her chest as thunder rumbles over them. 

“I know,” Karen soothes again “but it will be over soon” 

“I wish daddy were here,” Julie confesses what Karen suspected all along. Patrick was much better at making them both feel safe. 

“Me too baby,” Karen says “but we will be just fine, and when he comes home, you can tell him how brave you were.” 

“You’re brave too mama” Julie says, raising her hand up towards Karen, searching in the darkness for the familiar and comforting pearls but not finding them. 

“Where’s your necklace?” Julie asks in a worried tone. 

“I don’t wear it at night sweetness,” Karen explains “but it’s right here” 

Karen reaches behind her, lifting the pearls from the nightstand and showing Julie. She drapes it around the neck of the stuffed bear Julie has beside her and clasps it together securely. Julie instantly wraps her hand around the jewels, forgetting about the lightning and thunder and instead counting the pearls until she falls asleep. 

1986 

Seventeen year old Julie fumbles with the white satin boxy graduation cap, struggling to secure it on her head properly. She drops her hands in defeat, sighing at her pained expression in the hallway mirror. 

“Want some help?” Karen asks quietly from behind. 

“I guess,” Julie sighs and Karen begins to secure the cap into place with pins. 

“Are you excited for your party this weekend?” Karen asks. 

“Yeah,” Julie says but sounds less than excited. 

“You can tell me what’s bothering you,” Karen says “maybe I can help you sort it out?” 

Julie bites her lip, hesitating before finally confessing, “I don’t think I’m ready for college”

“Why not?” Karen asks, brushing loose strands of Julie's hair delicately. 

“Well I like the classes I picked,” Julie admits “but what if I can’t keep up, what if it’s too hard, I don’t want to waste my time or our money, and you’re so good at being a teacher and daddy’s such a great doctor, what if I don’t find something meaningful to do?” 

“Well that’s what college is for,” Karen reminds her “you find something your like and you follow that path, trust me, I knew I wanted to work with kids all my life, but it took a long time for your daddy to decide and stick with being a doctor.” 

“Really?” Julie asks, feeling some comfort knowing she wasn’t the only one who struggled. 

“Yes,” Karen explains “you were almost three when he officially finished his program and was certified, but he took his time to make sure it’s what he really wanted, there’s no shame in that, so if you don’t find something right away, don’t panic, you’ll know it in your heart when it’s right.” 

“Okay,” Julie says, relief evident in her voice. 

Karen watches her adjust the cap one more time before turning back to her. She radiates light and energy and she has the whole world out there, ready to tackle it. 

“You know what you need?” Karen says. 

“No, what?” Julie asks. 

Karen is silent as she reaches behind her and unclasps the pearl necklace, bringing it down, then back up and around Julie, clasping it gently around her neck. 

“For good luck and to help you relax,” Karen whispers “ever since you were a baby you wanted these and I think it’s time you had them.” 

“But daddy gave you these,” Julie protests “you love them.” 

“I do,” Karen says “but I love you more, and I know you’ll take good care of them, plus, jewels for my Jules.” 

Julie falls silent, not sure what to say to express her thanks and gratitude. Her fingers touch the jewels around her neck, recalling many times she had felt comforted by these and more importantly how much comfort and love and support she had received from both her parents. 

When Patrick comes into the living room, telling them it’s time to go, Julie feels at ease, proudly showing off the gems to all her friends at the graduation ceremony, making sure they are visible when the school photographer snaps her picture as she receives her diploma. 

2007

Julie clutches the pearls around her neck as if her life depends on it. She feels a sturdy hand on her shoulder, the only thing keeping her from sinking to the floor in agony. The floral arrangements are overtaking the small space but they are what Karen requested many years ago and made sure to remind Julie over and over; “the wild flowers dear, like the ones we saw at Puget Sound” 

And she listened. Having them shipped in from Seattle to Philly to adorn the walls and casket area. The request was a memorial and open casket until the services were over then it was a burial next to her father at a cemetery near the hospital and their neighborhood in Philly. 

“I’m an orphan now,” she confesses tearfully to Russell who has been keeping his hand on her shoulder this entire time. 

“You always have me and Barbara and the kids,” he promises her. 

She sniffles, unsure how to answer him, clutching the pearls. She didn’t have the heart to bury her mother with the precious aged gems because she needed them, for her own selfish comfort now and in the future. She hoped Karen would forgive her for that choice. She hoped Karen would forgive her for any and all grief she gave her as a child, being so wild and clingy and loud. Just like she hoped her father could forgive her for not doing more to help her mother during her stages of health decline. She should have been a doctor so she could have found a cure for Alzheimer’s. Maybe she would still be here with her, talking about work and Seattle and her childhood. 

“Sorry,” she cries to the lifeless form of the one who raised her, the one who handled everything with grace and strength. The one who clasped these pearls around her neck for the last time just before she became afflicted with the disease and was no longer able to live in the home she spent most of her adult life in. She remembered the way she swept her hair to the side, slipping the jewel around her neck, taking her time to secure it in place before fanning her hair back out. 

“There,” Karen had said “perfect, just like you.” 

Deep down, Julie knew she was far from perfect, but in the moment, she savored the unbiased compliment. Looking back, she was thankful she did. When it was all over and she found herself alone in her hotel room, despite many years of being told not to sleep with the necklace on, she dozed with it around her neck, the only comfort she had now and forever.


End file.
